


If We Shadows Have Offended

by Vampiyaa



Category: Labyrinth (1986)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Shadows - Freeform, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-06
Updated: 2014-02-06
Packaged: 2018-01-11 08:26:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1170865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vampiyaa/pseuds/Vampiyaa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jareth sees her shadow on the wall every night since the night she bested him at his own game. Sometimes she's alone, sometimes she's dancing, sometimes she's even in the shower. But what will Jareth do, on the anniversary of his defeat when he's already at his breaking point, when her shadow shows her making love with another man? My first one-shot!</p>
            </blockquote>





	If We Shadows Have Offended

If We Shadows Have Offended

Jareth spent every night for the past year watching her shadow.

It started the exact night where she’d bested him at his own game, the game he’d played so many times before and had always won. He knew she was different, he knew she was special the moment he saw her. Instead of playing in the park with friends and girls her age, pretending to be the beautiful princess waiting to be rescued, she’d storm courageously around the playground with nobody but a stuffed bear for company. She never ever played the princess— she always played the brave heroine who saved the day. 

And when her ‘evil stepmother’ gave birth to the babe, she went to the park a lot less often. So he sent her the book. 

That certainly did fortify her desire to act out the heroine’s scenes again. And so it was like that for nearly a year and a half, until she turned sixteen and finally had had enough of simply playing pretend and then coming home to a screaming baby. She wished him away and oh, he could remember that thrilling feeling that had welled up inside of him when she said those wonderful words. He’d spent a second debating whether or not to bask in the feeling before thinking, _I must get to her immediately._

And so he appeared on her windowsill, feeling taller than the highest tower on his castle. She’d at first cowered before him, so he continued to let her think he was frightening when really, he was quite a gentleman. Then she became courageous, and he’d obediently went along with her change of mood and teased her, knowing it would only make her mad and distract her from the task ahead. 

In the spare time when he was not stalking her every move, he played with the babe, which at first had cried up a thunderstorm, but then relaxed and even gave him occasional smiles and giggles. When he wasn’t playing with baby Toby, he was either staring at her through a crystal ball or was once again taunting her in the flesh, playing mind games with her. 

It had momentarily annoyed him when Sarah had told him his Labyrinth was a ‘piece of cake’, and it had gotten him especially peeved when he’d noticed that pain-in-the-ass dwarf was helping her, despite his spluttering lies about doing the opposite. He really hadn’t meant to set the Cleaners on her and the dwarf, Jareth noted to himself later in the throne room, but he’d made sure it hadn’t touched them, them meaning Sarah specifically of course. 

It had also pissed him off when he’d noticed she’d made a new friend, though a simple-minded one. This task was supposed to be hard and intimidating, damn it, and he would not have her breezing through it hand in hand with a creature that was supposed to be at his command! So he attempted to Bog the creature, but the mountain of red fur had managed to land onto a dry patch of dirt that was the banks of the Bog. And he’d also been quite ticked when she’d called out Bludo’s name or whatever the Devil that mountain’s name was, and then directly after she called for the dwarf. Not once did she call on him for help. He’d debated going to her anyway before he was struck with a thought: what did he care if she didn’t call on him for help? 

After tormenting the dwarf and giving him the peach he retreated to his throne room again, ignoring the babe and pondering. It wasn’t until she ate the peach and he sent out his crystal balls that created a dream that would fit her fantasies did he discover the truth. She’d appeared in the ballroom and oh, did she ever look splendid! He watched her for a moment through the holes of his mask, drinking her in greedily before removing his mask. He’d then felt a sudden feeling of panic when she stared at him with mouth open, and he disappeared to watch her from the shadows.

But no, he later decided, that would not be possible! He was a Goblin King and she was a mere human, so why the hell would he be afraid of such a pathetic little thing? But still, he watched her from the sidelines for a few moments, smirking as she walked in search of him in a throng of people that were far older than her and were looking her over and scoffing. 

Jareth finally surrendered to her, gathering her up in his arms and twirling her to the music, singing softly under his breath the song he’d written for her, just for her, because she was special to him… he knew that now. 

And just as it had started, it ended. She briefly remembered her purpose and pushed him away, and Jareth had watched her go despondently as she destroyed the fantasy world he’d created for her, the world she’d always dreamed of, just to get back to that babe. 

His sadness passed and was replaced by utter fury. How _dare_ that… that _bitch_ push him away like that, after all he’s done for her, after how generous he’s been… she should be at his feet, kissing his boots in adoration! But no, she was unable to see past her own selfishness, he later decided, and so he let her see just how generous he’d been. He put her in a room with the babe, serenaded her from atop a ledge as she ran after her one-year-old brother who kept crawling away from her to get the shiny little crystal… 

When she finally caught him, he almost screamed. She had beaten him; she really had done it! He sent the child home and, in a final effort to claim what he now knew he wanted, he quite literally turned the world upside-down, turned back time, acted like the villain to play out her ridiculous childish fantasy… he’d had enough. He offered her the dreams she’d wanted so badly all her life, only this time he would be in them, as her slave and her King. And she still rejected him, expecting him to disappear out of her life or something ridiculous like that.

So he did. 

Even after doing everything she wanted, after she practically kicked him in the backside, he was still continuing to be her slave. Jareth hated his role as what Aboveground humans might call ‘her bitch’, but he constantly told himself that if he gave her what she wanted, she’d come back to him. Even though she had no idea he was still on bended knee at her service. Even though she was probably perfectly happy with him gone and being that little piece of dust in the corner nobody really pays attention to or makes a less than pleasant remark about. 

But the very night she left, after he’d flown to the Aboveground to see her having a party with all the creatures of _his_ Labyrinth, when Jareth stormed up to his chambers and was prepared die there, he saw the shadow.

_Her_ shadow. Sarah’s shadow.

At first he’d gawked at it like an idiot and whirled his head around, his heart fluttering in anticipation that she’d be behind him, but there was no one there. He’d let out an angry growl, conjured up a crystal and threw it at the wall just to alleviate his anger, before turning back to the shadow. It was still there. Clearly, it was her— he could make out the length of her hair, the shape of her nose, lips and chin, her breasts and her hips he’d ached to touch several times… it was definitely her. 

Jareth watched the shadow with jaw dropped and mismatched eyes wide, as she began dancing, hair bouncing behind her like a curtain. The shadow’s mouth opened, and Jareth could faintly hear her musical laugh reverberating off the walls. He reached out with one hand and pressed it to the wall, where it was slightly warmer than the rest of the cold stone.

“Sarah?” he’d croaked out. 

Then the shadow disappeared. 

It went like this every night— she’d appear at the same time (thirteen o’clock in his world, midnight in hers) on his wall as a shadow, doing various things. Sometimes she’d be brushing her hair, sometimes a second shorter shadow would be with her and they’d both be laughing and dancing (Toby, clearly, had learned to walk, Jareth noted when this shadow had appeared), sometimes she’d be arguing with two other figures that could only be her father and stepmother and sometimes she’d be sitting down with her legs crossed, reading the Labyrinth aloud. The first time he heard her reading the final words he flinched, but she always stopped just before she was about to say, “You have no power over me,” and for that Jareth was secretly eternally grateful.

His favourite time, however, was when her shadow had appeared on the wall, and she had been in the shower. That was when Jareth could ravish her shadow almost properly; he’d be able to make out every single curve she had, from the curve of her neck to her legs. He was able to just barely distinguish her nipples, erect from her constant rubbing them with lathery soap. That night he’d helplessly crawled over to her and reached out with both hands towards her, his palms only meeting solid wall. He sank to his knees that day and wept for the first time since he was a babe, sobbing to himself that he was so close to her, so close to the woman he needed more than oxygen…

The next morning he’d been ashamed of his pathetic outburst, and neglected his duties to lock himself in his room and eagerly await her shadow again.

Exactly one year from the day she beat him, on the anniversary of his failure, her shadow had been less than pleasing. Throughout that day Jareth had imagined a thousand different unpleasant things her shadow might be doing: celebrating his failure again with her friends was the top one on his list.

But he never expected… _that_.

When her shadow appeared, his jaw dropped and horror flooded his insides. She was lying down (Jareth could tell she was naked again) and on top of her was _another man_. Her arms were wrapped around his neck, bare legs were spread out for him and he was between her, his hips thrusting into her at a steady pace. 

Jareth could hear his Sarah making ethereal moaning sounds that he’d more than once imagined himself making, and the fact that it wasn’t him making her do those sounds made him want to rip out his hair. He wanted to look away so badly, but found he couldn’t— he was mesmerized by how his Sarah had forgotten him, how she could have taken on another man so rapidly and let him do _that_ to her. His anger began to build and build until it threatened to explode him, and he furiously transformed into the beige barn owl and flew to the Aboveground, determined to absolutely murder the man who was in his Sarah and use his bones for decorations. 

All throughout the trip he could still hear her moans echoing in his ears, and each millimetre he was closer to the Aboveground his anger grew tenfold. However, the moment he dove down, preparing to swoop into her window, he heard her scream a name. 

“JARETH!”

He halted for a brief second, landing instead on a tree outside her window. Shock was flooding his now avian systems; clearly, she’d just climaxed, and it was his name that had been cried out into the night. Anyone could have seen the malicious grin on his face if he weren’t in owl form. She’d just called him, and he was all too happy to come back to her side. Jareth dove off the tree and swooped into her room. He took in Sarah, who had the sheets clutched up to her breasts and a look of horror on her face, and he took in the man, who was muscled and blond-haired and masculine and was shouting at her at the top of his lungs. 

When Jareth appeared as himself in all his glory, the man screamed and Sarah simply stared at him with a mixed look of embarrassment and curiosity, and perhaps shock. 

“You,” he snarled at the stark-naked man in front of him. “Be gone.” 

With a wave of his hand the man was no longer there.

“Adrian!” Sarah shrieked in alarm, before setting an accusing eye on Jareth. “Where did you put him?”

“I didn’t put him anywhere,” Jareth replied coldly. “He no longer exists.” 

Jareth was feeling rather odd— he’d been angry one moment, triumphant the next, now he was feeling a strange intertwined feeling of guilt, anger and an insatiable hunger. 

“You… _killed_ him?” Sarah choked.

“No, you foolish girl, I told you he no longer exists,” Jareth hissed impatiently. “He isn’t dead, because he was never alive.” 

Sarah was silent for a moment, before remembering she was naked and blushed. Jareth nearly growled at the sight— he’d longed to make her blush for an entire year now. 

“Could you maybe… um, go away?” she said lamely. “I’m sort of underdressed.” 

“No, I cannot simply ‘go away’,” Jareth sneered. “You called me, remember?” He swept over to the bed and leaned down, half to get a peek at her cleavage and half to whisper in her ear, “Why was it my name that tumbled from your lips, precious, when you reached your climax?”

She didn’t answer, only blushed furiously. He smirked and continued, “And by the way, why did that pathetic mortal just happen to look _so much like me_?” 

“G-go away,” Sarah stammered, clutching the sheet tighter to her body. 

“I’ve been away from you far too long, love,” he growled. “And I’m not going anywhere this time.”

Jareth was on her in a second, pinning her body that was now only half-covered by the sheet onto the bed and capturing her lips with his own. He groaned into her mouth— Gods, how he’d fantasized kissing her lips… this beat his fantasies a million times over. Sarah, dazed at first, didn’t kiss him back, and when she regained her senses she began to struggle. She tried to push him off but he was too strong for her, and besides, he barely even noticed her struggling, he was so captivated by her.

Sarah turned her head away from him and desperately cried, “Jareth, please stop!” 

A thousand different emotions hit him at once, pounded on him like a ton of bricks, and he was so overcome by them all he dropped his head onto her shoulder and didn’t bother to swallow the lump in his throat but instead let it consume him. 

“I’m sorry,” he cried into her neck. “Forgive me Sarah.” 

Jareth cried a year’s worth of tears, not even bothering to lift his head to see Sarah’s reaction. It was probably embarrassment, or shock or even abhorrence. His ego argued as he wept that he shouldn’t be crying; he was a King! But he kicked his ego in the rear end and continued sobbing. 

Slowly, almost like a dream, her hands lifted to wrap around his neck, and she drew him closer, her shyness of being nude forgotten as the sheet slipped down to her waist. 

“Shh, Jareth, it’s okay,” she soothed him softly into his ear, smoothing back his hair comfortingly that brought on a fresh wave of tears. 

“Sarah, my Sarah…” he sobbed, and she hushed him again with a gently sound that left him feeling almost sleepy. 

“Oh Jareth, what have you been doing for the past year?” Sarah sighed, swiftly kissing the top of his forehead. 

_Watching your shadow_.

It took a good ten minutes before he quietened, and just as he was locked in her embrace and on the verge of sleep she whispered, “I forgive you, Jareth.” 

He raised his head and stared at her with mouth opened and eyes wide and red from crying. 

“I thought…” he started hesitantly. “I thought you hated me.”

“I thought _you_ hated _me_ ,” she replied with a sad smile. 

“Never,” he growled, pulling her towards him for another kiss. 

This one she surrendered to more than happily and even dragged him on top of her. For a moment she broke the kiss, and he blinked down at her confusedly. 

“He looks like you because I wanted him to be you,” she whispered. “And I screamed your name for the exact same reason.” 

Jareth had hoped this was the reason, and he was more than overjoyed when she confirmed it herself, but all he could do was stare at her in shock. Not breaking his gaze Sarah pushed the rest of the sheet off of her body, revealing everything to him. 

“Can you fulfill my dreams?”

When had his Sarah become such a temptress? 

“With pleasure,” he growled. Jareth crushed his mouth against hers, tore off his gloves and tossed them in the corner where they lay forgotten and unloved. He gripped her breasts with both of his bare hands and echoed her groan of pleasure. He’d dreamed of this, both in his sleep and while awake, and now it was actually happening. Jareth thought of pinching himself to see if it was a dream, but he didn’t want to ruin it if it was. 

Their arms tangled in frantic efforts for him to touch and for her to strip off his clothes. When she’d managed to get him almost completely bare, Jareth pulled back and nearly groaned at the sight of her pale creamy skin, the curves of her breasts swollen and ready for his hands. Her nipples tightened as the cooler air hit them and all he wanted to do was lave them with his tongue. His hands grasped her waist and he pulled her closer, skin to skin, holding her against his body as he kissed her again.

Her mouth opened for his hungrily, her lips nibbling on his, imitating his actions, tongue brushing his own, a moan rising in her throat as passion seemed to simply explode between them. Her arms were wrapped around him, breasts pressed to his chest; her hair tumbled over her shoulders and bare back. Jareth tore his mouth from hers and kissed her nose, her jaw, her neck, tasting the delicate skin at her collarbone and her shoulders. Her hands slid down to the tight pants he wore and pulled at the drawstring holding them around his waist. He felt the fabric slide down his legs, cool air hitting his skin.

Before he could ask or decide on his own, her hands were at his waist, gripping him tightly between her fingers; he almost came from the simple feel of it, and this was just her hand! 

He leaned down and took her nipple in his mouth, swirling it with his tongue. Sarah moaned and arched up to his mouth, her thighs parting for him as a silent but strong message. Jareth groaned, fire lighting his blood at her eagerness for his touch. Her skin was soft and delicate, her nipple blooming under his tongue and her hands gentle but needing on his shoulders, sliding into his hair and on his neck, her soft gasps begging him for more. His fingers slid between Sarah’s delicate folds and found her core, hot and so wet, slick with passion. The feel of her was enough to have him groaning over her skin, he felt as if he’d die if he didn’t have her soon.

“Jareth, please, please…” Sarah begged under him, her skin flushed with pleasure, her eyes heavy lidded as she watched him move back and forth between her breasts. 

He watched her face as he slid a finger inside her, watched the shock and desire bloom over her skin as she half-moaned half-screamed. This was the only power he wanted now, the ability to give Sarah pleasure, to have her for his own and to belong to her. He didn’t care about the Underground, he didn’t care about his duties as the Goblin King, hell, he didn’t even care if he became human and powerless there and then. Carefully he pressed his thumb up and found her clit, that tiny little bundle of nerves and rubbed the pad of his thumb over it. A shudder ran through her body and her hand tightened on his shoulder in response. “Jareth, my Jareth…that’s…”

He couldn’t help it, he had to kiss her, drink in her moans and sighs as he played her body, spun pleasure from her. He pressed another finger inside her and felt her body tighten around him, straining for completion, her hips rocking against his hand. Jareth groaned as she babbled heartfelt little cries of his name and pleas for a completion she’d never felt. 

“My beautiful, headstrong, precious Sarah,” he breathed, and kissed her again, moving his fingers inside her, sliding them in and out of her body, his index finger carefully stroking that sensitive flesh. “You’re going to come for me, from my hand.” He wanted her to climax before he did, because she had probably suffered without him just as much as he had without her, or maybe more.

He bent and put his lips to her breast again, suckling harder at the tips and heard her cry out. She moaned, her hips twisted, her body shuddered and he felt her pleasure come over her like a storm, shaking her body against his, her cries rising to a scream of his name. Jareth groaned, forced himself to pull his fingers out of her body and lay over her, his body spreading her legs wide, taking himself in a hand slick with Sarah’s desire and pressed slowly carefully up into her tight clinging sheath. 

Sarah didn’t even have time to moan before a second climax took her immediately, and her walls clamped around him and nearly drove him over the edge before he even started. He thrust into her in a steady rhythm, bringing moan after moan upon her, and the only coherent thought that was able to come to him as he sheathed himself in her heat was, _I wish this would last forever._

And then he came like he never had before, body shuddering violently, fluids spilling into her body, mouth open to roar out his release. Sarah was his aphrodisiac and God, he would never get enough of her. 

It wasn’t until later, when Sarah was curled up in his embrace, that he realized his early thought and smiled. 

“Sarah?”

“Hmm…?” she mumbled sleepily. 

“Say your right words.”

Sarah didn’t open her eyes but smiled. “I wish the Goblin King would take me right now.” 

“Too late,” Jareth murmured, leaning down to give her nipple a playful lick. 

She sighed at the feeling and whispered lazily, “Jareth?”

“Yes, precious?” 

“I love you.” 

Jareth stiffened and his whole body practically lit up with shock. Did he just hear right? “You mean it?” 

“Mm hm,” Sarah mumbled, slothfully kissing the base of his neck to prove it. 

“Ah, Sarah my precious, beautiful Queen, I love you too,” he practically sang, raining kisses down her face and neck. 

Sarah was no longer a mere shadow on the wall— she was his Guardian Angel.

“ _If we shadows have offended, think but this; and all is mended that you have but slumbered here while these visions did appear and this weak and idle theme no more yielding but a dream._ ” – William Shakespeare, A Midsummer Night’s Dream

**Author's Note:**

> All my fics can be found on fanfiction.net. This was my first ever one shot in any fandom, so please be kind :) Title stolen from the fabulous Shakespeare. Please kudos/comment!


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